Tourist
by AndShadowsWatchingOverMe
Summary: Three oneshots. Chap1: Willow meets a tourist. Chap2: A raider hears voices in the metro tunnel. Chap3: Joe Porter meets a demanding customer.
1. Sightseeing

It was a slow day at the Mall and Willow was bored. She was leaning against the doors of the Museum of History with a cigarette between her skinless fingers. The ghoul was running out of her cancer sticks, this was the second to last and soon she would have to retreat back into the Museum building to harass Tulip for more. Heaving a sigh she dragged another long breath and flicked loose ashes to the ground.

Clouds were slowly gathering on the sky, covering every spot of blue with their sickening grey and soft wind carried away the smoke the ghoulette exhaled. From time to time Willow could hear the Brotherhood assholes having a go with the muties just around the corner, but they didn't get close so she couldn't get bothered to check out who was winning. It wasn't like it would've mattered anyway.

Willow rolled her eyes to the sky. On days like these she didn't even know why she bothered to drag her rotting corpse out here. The Underworld barely had any visitors, raiders didn't wander this far and the muties just didn't care.

Suddenly the sounds of gunfire and inhuman screeching grew louder. The noises carried easily over the open air of the Mall. There was nothing new about that, but Willow could swear the fight was getting closer.

Finally some action, she thought and flicked the butt of her cigarette to the ground. Hands now free, she drew out her laser rifle and started approaching the corner of the building cautiously. She craned her neck as the noises kept coming closer and closer. Not too far off a mutant let out its dying gurgles.

If it was those Brotherhood pricks, she was just going to get back on her post and light her last smoke.

A super mutant appeared out of the trenches on the ground, running full speed and screaming like a mad dog. Willow damn near pulled the trigger but the mutie ran past her. It nearly stepped on her toes as it went but didn't even seem to notice the ghoul in his rage. It didn't get far, though, before it was gunned down a stream of red laser.

O-kay. Either the Brotherhood outpost had gained some serious upgrades – which would be bad – or some trigger-happy individual had decided to start a purge on the mutated menace – which wasn't good either. Willow sucked on her yellow teeth and peered behind the corner.

The first thing she saw was the dead and/or dying green corpses still smoking on the ground. They had never even stood a chance, brainless idiots. But the culprit behind the bloodshed was nowhere to be seen. Willow tightened her hold on her rifle and kept looking.

There. Behind that one big guy!

A sentry bot.

"Shit!" Willow muttered pulling quickly back behind the wall. Her heart was in her throat, beating painfully. A sentry bot. Had it spotted her? It must have, those tin cans had tracking systems that put bloodhounds to shame. And against a robot that had just decimated at least half a dozen of muties Willow's riffle would do jack shit.

She needed to make a run for it. If she got back in the Museum and got Cerberus and Charon they could beat it down together. She was not going to risk her life for something as petty as pride.

Before she could take another step, though, she heard a voice. A voice that didn't belong to the scene one bit.

It was high-pitched, distinctively human and sounded pleased.

Curiosity was not a trait that promised a long and healthy lifespan in Capital Wasteland. Shit, for all she knew the voice was pre-recorded as a lure for softhearted idiots. But the ghoul just couldn't resist. Slowly she leaned in to take another peek.

The sentry bot was much closer now, slowly and unsteadily making its way over the crumpled pavement. It dodged the mutant corpses with some difficulty and looked raggedy as shit. It had wires hanging from bullet holes and the left side of it was charred like it had been burned recently. But it wasn't the one doing the talking.

Just behind the bot, a smoothskin in a tattered business suit was following and talking nonstop to no one. Willow raised what remained of her eyebrow. The smoothskin was carrying a scruffy suitcase in one hand and a piece of paper in another. It looked like a woman, but the ghoul couldn't be sure with the distance between them. The smoothskin kept angling the paper around and tilting his or her head from side to side, lips never ceasing their movement. And was that a camera hanging from the human's neck? Yeah. That definitely was a camera.

Okay. Willow had to admit. She was interested now. She pulled back behind the wall and breathed a long sigh. This was just her luck. A crazy human with a killer robot? Great. She had no idea if they were going to be hostile or not, but the bot had just mowed down six muties with no problem.

With her luck the smoothskin was going to tell the attack bot to shoot Willow just because she was a zombie.

Oh well. That's life for you. With trembling fingers the ghoulette dug out her last cigarette brought it to her rotting teeth. It took a few tries before she got the lighter to work but soon the soothing smokes filled her lungs.

The tin can rolled around the corner and spotted Willow immediately. It stopped and lifted its arms higher to aim at her but didn't shoot right away. Well, at least that was something.

The human was still talking as she came into view. And yeah, Willow could tell that she was a woman now, there were curves there that would have just looked out of place on a man. Her pinstripe business attire was dusty and caked in blood but somehow she had had time to tie a red tie around her neck neatly. She didn't look like she had any weapons on her, though.

" – told her to book the bigger auditorium for us. She just doesn't listen, damn rookie, pardon my French. I can honestly not tell what Chad sees in her. I would not be caught dead with a tramp like that. Oh!"

The smoothskin stopped talking when her eyes landed on Willow. And then she just stared at the ghoul only a few steps away through her cracked glasses. Stared, glassy eyed. Willow noticed that the human had tried to make a neat bun out of her hair but dirty strands poked out at every direction of the wind.

Willow waited with bated breath.

The smoothskin's face scrunched up to an unpleasant scowl and for a moment Willow feared the worst.

"Do you know what those things do to your body?"

Willow blinked. "Um… What?"

"Those… Those… _things._ Cigarettes. Do you have any idea what they do to your lungs?"

What the hell? This was not the reaction Willow had expected from the smoothskin. Her smokes? Was the bitch making fun of her?

"Are you for real?" she asked.

"Where are your parents, young lady?" the human demanded. She was wagging her finger now. Wagging it right up to Willow's face.

"I don't know, dead I bet," Willow snapped and took a step back. Whatever the human was playing at, it was making Willow very uncomfortable.

Suddenly a look of pure horror and regret filled the smoothskin's face and Willow had to do another double take. What was this now?

"Oh, I am so sorry," the human said. She moved the piece of paper to her armpit and put her newly freed hand on Willow's shoulder. The ghoul stiffened at the contact. "I am sure you are a good girl, not like those punks back there. But dear, it's getting late and good girls your age should be home at this hour."

Alright. This crap was getting weird. Willow looked the human up and down and then turned her eyes on the bot. The sentry was scanning the area, offering no explanation. Willow turned her attention back on the frazzled smoothskin.

What the hell was going on?

"This _is_ my home, smoothskin. But what are _you_ doing in here?"

The woman smiled absentmindedly and removed her hand from Willow's shoulder to grab the piece of paper again. Willow could see faded colors on the paper forming some sort of lines. "Well," she said, "the seminar ended early today, so I thought I'd do some sightseeing while I still have time."

"Sightseeing? Don't tell me you're another tourist, then," Willow said holstering her rifle. Then, after a quick thought and a look at the robot she dropped the cigarette and ground it under the heel of her boot.

The smoothskin just laughed and nodded. "Indeed. Now, excuse me, I do not have the whole day to dawdle around. Cheerio!"

"Yeah, bye," Willow said slowly and watched the odd duo climb the stairs into the Museum building. The sentry bot was proving to have some trouble getting in, but after a few failed attempts the smoothskin and the bot got in.

Out of sheer curiosity Willow followed the odd duo in and watched the woman go to the torn old lobby desk. She stopped next to a computer terminal that had a hole through its screen and crossed her arms. Then she just waited.

Okay, Willow was staring to connect the dots. It was either radiation poisoning or drugs. Either way, this smoothskin had a few screws too many loose in her head. She didn't seem violent, though. Not a threat to the ghouls of the Underworld. The ghoulette shook her head and pulled back out.

Willow mulled around the Mall for a few more hours, kicking pebbles around and wishing she had just one more smoke. Just one, that was all she needed. At one point some muties came to drag their fallen comrades off somewhere, but aside from that, nothing as interesting happened that day. Around the nightfall she decided that she'd have enough of this and that Tulip owed her a pack. Willow trudged up the stairs to the Museum and thought about getting a short nap before getting back out.

At that point she had all but forgotten about the weird smoothskin. The ghoul was soon reminded about her existence, though, as she found the human by the same spot where she had left her before, standing by the counter, tapping her heeled foot against the floor.

"Can you believe this, Jeeves? I will have to write a very strong worded letter to the management of this place, that is for sure! The service is absolutely abhorrent! Do they even know who I am?"

"Shit, are you still here?" Willow asked.

The smoothskin flinched in surprise, which in return had the sentry bot letting out an auditory warning. Willow lifted her hands, showing her empty palms to the bot. Not that it would help her if the thing decided to turn her into ashes.

"Mind your language, young lady," the woman said. "And yes, I am still here. Can you believe the audacity? The service in here is putting the whole museum to shame."

"What?"

"I am trying to purchase a ticket for Jeeves and I, but the clerk is nowhere to be seen! I have been waiting for hours!"

Willow wasn't sure what she was supposed to say, so she just licked her lips and crossed her arms. "Yeah, that sucks."

"Indeed."

Willow moved past the smoothskin. The human remained on her spot, staring at nothing.

The smoothskin would probably stay there the whole night. Crazy people were so unpredictable. Greta would have a laugh when she'd get out for her break, this was just too much. Willow stopped and looked at the human over her shoulder.

Oh, why the hell not.

"You know… I just remembered that there's a… today's a national museum day. It's a free entry just for the day, right? So you can just… go in, I guess."

The human's eyes lit up and she smiled brightly. "Really? Is that true? How did you know?"

"Well… I did say that I live here, so…"

"So you did. Well, this is just wonderful news! I just wish these people had had the forethought to advertise this a bit better, don't you agree dear? I had no idea!"

"Yeah, well," Willow said rubbing her neck. "It's a real… shame. You had to waste hours of your time to just…"

"Oh, pish tosh, water under the bridge, dear. Come on, Jeeves, we're going in."

Willow watched how the weird duo waltzed in to the Museum. Well, the human was doing the waltzing, the bot rolled after her, rattling like there were grains of sand and dust between its wheels. What a pair of weirdoes.

The surprises weren't over, though. Instead of heading straight into the Underworld, the woman steered her steps towards the infested areas.

"Hey, hey, hey, lady," Willow said grabbing the smoothskin's shoulder. "You don't want to go there. There's… ah… bad crowd over there. The Underworld's where the action's at."

The human just tilted her head and smiled. "Oh no," she said. "I find that exhibit a bit too morbid for me, thank you very much."

Morbid? Willow shook her head. She was just about done with this broad.

"Okay, do what you want, tourist," the ghoul said. "Your funeral."

Smiling blissfully the smoothskin and her robotic friend opened the door to the closed off section of the Museum. Soon the sound of laser fire filled Willow's ears.

Maybe the bot would take care of it. The sentry bots generally were sturdy and this one _had_ just a few hours ago wasted those super mutants. Willow remained glued to her spot, waiting to hear what would happen next.

She could have gone after them, could have offered them a helping hand. But she didn't. Instead she went to Tulip's and harassed herself a new pack of smokes. And then she returned to the entrance to wait if the odd couple would make it out in one piece.

Willow wasn't disappointed. I half an hour the smoothskin and her robotic companion walked out of the west wing. The human didn't look any different from before aside from some fresh splotches of blood on her camera.

"Ah!" the smoothskin exclaimed as she spotted Willow. "You're still here, dear. Shouldn't you be in bed already?"

"Nah. Maybe. Just wanted to see that you make it out alright," the ghoulette said and crossed her arms. The human's smile didn't even twitch.

Yep. This one was way out of it.

"That is so kind of you, dear. So kind. Isn't she a dearie, Jeeves?"

The bot said nothing. The smoothskin's smile just widened. Her teeth were showing at it made Willow just a tad bit squeamish.

"So…" Willow said slowly.

"Ah!" the human gasped suddenly looking at her wrist where there was a broken wristwatch. "We are late, Jeeves! Oh dear. We really must go."

Willow watched as the smoothskin scurried around, angling the paper again. From this angle Willow could see that it was actually a map. Too bad it wasn't the map of Washington D.C.

"Come now, Jeeves. We're taking the metro!" the woman declared, marching out of the Museum doors without even a backwards glance. Willow just followed with amusement as the bot tired to roll after its master, bumping against the closing door.

And just like that, the basket case and her tin can were gone.

"What the hell was that?"

Willow turned around to see Greta leaning against the doors of Underworld with a burning smoke between her fingers.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Willow said.


	2. Waiting for a metro

**Warning:** Bad language, mentions of drug use and violence, main focus is on a raider, so that should give you some idea what to expect.

* * *

Buzzer's boots stumped loudly against the metro tunnel floor as he stormed out of the maintenance room. The washed out raider kicked a rotting corpse out of his way and cursed loudly, his voice echoing in the closed space. His barely contained rage drove him off the sidewalk and onto the tracks, where the man continued his speed walk.

He was going to kill Vixen! The bitch had gone too far this time and he was going to teach her to show some respect. Buzzer would cut the other raider in half and hang both of her halves on the wall. That'd teach her and the others to steal his psycho.

Really, he'd been gone for… what? Four hours? Four hours and the bitch had drunk up all the booze and ran off with his last dose of psycho. That shit was getting harder and harder to find and Buzzer didn't want to wander into super mutant territory just to get his fix.

He ground his teeth together, feeling the first wave of nausea hit over him. The withdrawals were starting to set in. The raider's eyes grew hazy and for a moment everything turned hazy red. Buzzer drew in a shuddering breath.

Fucking Vixen. She was probably sitting somewhere on her fine ass with a needle in her arm, too high to realize what was about to happen.

Well, too bad, Buzzer thought with a wicked grin. He'd just have to stab her harder to make sure that the woman understood who she'd been messing with.

The raider hopped off the tracks and back onto the ledge. The quick change of height made him feel faint and he could feel the familiar ebb of a headache making a home between his eyes. Cold sweat was forming on his brow and the raider stumbled on his feet. For fuck's sake, he thought and leaned his arm against the cold wall. It was getting harder and harder to see in the dark metro tunnel. The air was thick and stuffy.

All of this was that bitch's fault. If she hadn't taken the psycho, Buzzer wouldn't be in this shitty situation to begin with. Now he was all out and there wasn't even any whiskey left to drown the taste of bile in his mouth.

A noise that didn't belong to a raider turf echoed through the metro tunnels. It sounded like… like a giggle, loud and obnoxious. Buzzer wiped the sweat off his brow and drew out the old assault riffle hanging from his shoulder. He stopped and waited, but could hear nothing more. Just the slow dripping noise of moisture and his own heartbeat in his ears. There was nothing there. Or even if there was, it'd probably just be Vixen tripping balls, talking to herself.

Content with that realization, Buzzer threw the riffle out of his hands, leaving it hanging from its strap. The cold of the ground was seeping through his shoes, making his feet ache. Maybe Vixen would even have some of the booze left. Yeah. Maybe he could take it after he'd carved that bitch open.

Cory would want an explanation for Vixen's death, though. Stupid fucker thought that just because he had the biggest gun he should be the leader. Well fuck that. Buzzer stumbled on his feet and kicked a rock. They didn't need Vixen, the bitch just took up space anyway. She couldn't shoot a gun even if her life depended on it and who used a sword in a gunfight anyway? Out in the Wastes she would've died ages ago, the only reason Cory let the woman stay was because she knew how to keep him occupied. The gal had some moves. But would she ever spare a glance at Buzzer's way? Of course not. She was Cory's whore.

Another echo of laughter filled the empty metro, making the raider's ears ring. He could hear someone talking, the words muffled and unclear, and the closer to the source he got, the worse the pounding in his head became.

Buzzer's fingers started twitching and he splayed them over his bald head. His skin was clammy under the touch, cold and sweaty. A bile rose to his throat, filling his mouth and forcing the raider to kneel down and empty the contents of his stomach on the tracks.

Well, there went his lunch. The damn Radroach hadn't tasted that good anyway, but now he was going to have to go to Cory's stash to snatch some of his canned beans.

Fucking Vixen.

On his knees on the cold ground, Buzzer couldn't escape the unfamiliar sound. That wasn't Vixen's voice, he realized. Gone were the hollow coughs that usually followed her scratchy voice. No, this voice was high-pitched and annoying. The raider grated his teeth together and covered his ears. The damn voice was making the tunnels echo. It was so damn loud!

He hurled again, this time spewing out nothing but stomach acids and foam. God damn it. His eyes were getting unfocused again, blurry images dancing across his vision and turning everything red. The raider got on his feet, almost falling over again, and spat to get the stinging taste out of his mouth. His throat was burning. It looked like the walls themselves were bleeding and mutilated arms reached out through the cracks on the concrete to grab at him. Buzzer shook his head violently, scraping his blunt nails over his scalp. The splitting pain subsided for a moment and the hallucinations faded into nothing.

All of this was going to get better once he got that Vixen. Maybe she'd still have some of the psycho in her bloodstream. He'd have to try and get some, maybe it would help. Yeah, he needed to make that bitch bleed.

Buzzer grabbed a hold of his rifle as he made it out of the metro tunnel and into an old deserted station. The familiar shape under his fingers made him feel a little better. This place, this was his home, his gang's home turf, and it was marked as such. Trespassers and former members were hanging from hooks where they had been left to dry. You'd have to be really messed in the head to wander into raider territory. Buzzer grinned. Yeah, they'd been holding this part of the metro for years now. There wasn't anyone who'd be dumb enough to question their claim.

There was no sign of Vixen anywhere. Buzzer kneaded his temple. The ache was coming back and his legs were starting to tremble. He needed his fix and he needed it now.

The voice was coming from just a bit further along and it was making the whole hall ring with its abhorrent tone. Whoever it was that was talking didn't know how to shut up. Words were coming out in an unending stream. Buzzer's eyes crossed, making the corpses dance in their chains, headless necks turning to look after him as he passed them. He gave them no second glances.

" – would have loved to take her along too. I just know she would adore this place, it's just so… so…magnificent, don't you agree? The architecture, the people, the food… I bet she would have loved the Lincoln Memorial. Such a shame those ruffians would not let us get closer to the Washington Monument, though. I think those two young gentlemen were rather rude. These days I think no one has any manners anymore. A real shame, I tell you. Oh, but we absolutely _must_ take her with us next time we come around. And little Timmy as well, we can't forget about him!"

"The hell?" Buzzer grumbled. Yep, that sure wasn't Vixen's voice. He followed the sound until he came to a toppled metro cart. The rusty old thing had been derailed ages ago and was now covered in trash from their little camp. The voice was coming from behind the cart.

"Alright, little fucker," Buzzer roared rounding up behind the metro cart. "Show yourself!"

The first thing he noticed was a freshly killed corpse on the ground, still sizzling where it had been hit. He noticed it the moment his foot connected with the calloused flesh and sent him tumbling on the ground like a fool. There was blood on the ground, warm and sticky and now it was on his hands.

It was Vixen.

"Gah!" Buzzer shouted and backpedalled until he hit a pile of trash behind him.

The obnoxious talking continued and the raider moved his attention from the dead woman to the one standing in front of him, very much alive.

" – but I never would have guessed the traffic would be this bad here. Honestly, if I had known I'd have to wait around for hours on end for…" the woman trailed off and turned to look at Buzzer.

This woman… there was something off about her. And not just the fact that she was alone in raider territory, talking to herself. She was looking down at him, but it looked like she was staring right through Buzzer without really seeing the man. An empty smile spread on her cracked lips.

"Why hello there, darling," she said. "A terrible affair, is it not?"

Buzzer just stared up at the glassy eyed woman. Her teeth were showing between her red lips, yellow blocks gapped like someone had punched them off for talking too much.

"What… What?" Buzzer said when he didn't know what else to do.

"The traffic," she spoke slowly. "Just awful. Have you heard any news? Are they having some sort of technical difficulties down the line? My companion and I have been waiting here for quite a while now and not a single cart has driven past us. Is it always like this here in the Capital?"

"The hell are you doing in here?" Buzzer barked. This was trippy. Was this woman just another hallucination? Couldn't be, right? She just looked so real. But she couldn't be here, the only way she would have gotten down here was through the station above and Andy and Bess were supposed to be keeping guard of that entrance. She should've been toast.

Buzzer looked down at Vixen. Well, fuck. He could guess where the two guards were right about now.

"Well, I guess all we can do is wait for now," the woman said, turning to face the decrepit cart. "I am not paying for a taxi and there is no way I am walking to the hotel this late. All sorts of hooligans are out and about."

This bitch, this trespasser had killed his gang members! This crazy bitch had somehow shot Vixen down and was probably going to do the same to him. Buzzer bounced up on his feet, the world shifting around him as his blood rushed to his feet. He reached with trembling hands to his riffle. The bitch wasn't going to get him! Not while he was still breathing! He let out a mad cackle and pulled the trigger.

"You're going down, bitch!" he screamed letting loose a hail of bullets.

They didn't quite reach their target, however. All he could hear was the loud bangs of the bullets ricocheting off of a metallic torso.

"That wasn't very nice of you, young man," the woman said behind a mountain of metal and deadly lasers. Buzzer looked up. His bladder failed him. He looked a bit higher.

" _Hostile detected, commencing neutralization_ ," the sentry bot said.

The last voice Buzzer heard before dying was the woman saying: "What a rude young gentleman. Such a shame."


	3. Restaurant Debacle

"You'll never get away with terrorizing this town! Not while it's under the protections of the Mechanist!"

Joe Porter leaned his elbow against the counter and his cheek against his fist and watched with disinterest as once again the duo of coots were going at it just outside his cafe. He wiped at the counter in hopes of removing some of the grime, but gave up, as it was a thankless task.

"You and your pathetic tin cans are no match against my army!" the Antagonizer cackled.

Joe reached under the table to grab a lukewarm bottle of Nuka-Cola and removed the cap against the counter. He pocketed the cap and took a swig.

"The citizens of this town have nothing to fear!" the bucket wearing fool announced and the duo started to recite the same lines of dialogue they spat out every day. Joe rolled his eyes and retreated behind the counter to wait out the fighting. Soon enough the firing started as the ants and robots went at it.

Another day in Canterbury Commons.

The fighting didn't last any longer than a few minutes with the duo shouting clichés at each other and soon enough they were running away to their respective hideouts to plot for the next day's event. Great. Just great. These two nut jobs had been going at it for years now. Terrific. Joe just hoped they would finish each other off already, but no. Every day was the same. And having those idiots in the close vicinity was not good for business, no sir. Joe sighed and ran his hands over his face.

It had been weeks since he had seen a customer that wasn't one of the town folks or traders. No one came around anymore, with the Antagonizer and Mechanist making noise in the town center. And he couldn't blame them. If Joe had a choice, he would pack up and leave in a heartbeat. Maybe go to Rivet City or something, there he wouldn't have to deal with idiotic superhuman wannabes.

He saw Machete passing by and gave her a hopeful wave. The woman sneered at his way and spat on the pavement.

Yeah. He would move out in a heartbeat. But he had a café and he had income. Not something every wastelander could say.

The day continued as slowly as they all did and Joe sank to lean against the counter again, flicking grains of sand off of the surface. He spotted a new carving on the table, crudely written 'MECHANIST RULEZ, and cursed Roe for teaching that good-for-nothing nephew of his to read. Those comics were rotting his brain worse than any radiation ever could.

Damn Antagonizer and her six legged friends. And damn that Mechanist too. The man was more trouble than he was worth, coming in and ruining everyone's lives with that hero business of his. Sure, the man had good intentions, but that didn't change the fact that he was making everyone in town miserable with his catchphrases and killer robots. If only someone would take care of the crazy bug lady so they could be done with it, since the resident superhero of the town was clearly inept at it. Maybe then the bucket head would leave to live a life of a traveling hero or some bullshit.

Joe leaned against the dirty wall of his café and turned an empty cola bottle in his hands. He watched the world distort through the glass reflection and sighed in boredom.

That was when he spotted it, one of Mechanist's robotic friends rolling just outside his café.

He nearly dropped the bottle. This was different. The crazies usually made their appearances once a day, then disappeared out of sight for the rest of the day. The robots and ants didn't bother to stick around afterwards, following their respective masters after the fight ended. But there it was, a lone sentry bot moving slowly about.

Joe stood rooted on his spot behind the counter. From here he couldn't see any of the other townsfolk, just the tin can. And now that he looked at it, it looked far more ragged than the ones Mechanist brought with him. The man at least kept his bots in good shape. But this one? It looked like it had crawled its way out of a nuclear explosion, rattling and ragged.

A cold feeling of realization sank into his stomach. This wasn't one of the Mechanist's. This was some random sentry bot in Canterbury Commons. Joe grabbed his 10mm pistol but couldn't pull it out of its holster. What if the bot hadn't seen him yet? What if it had wonky sensors? If he tried to duck under the counter now, would that alert the bot to his presence?

His clammy fingers gripped tight onto his pistol. The thing looked like it would break down with a slightest shove. Maybe he could take it down. Maybe he could hold it off until Machete and Dominic came in running. At the very least the sounds of a firefight should tell them that not all was well in their little town.

But before he could move a muscle, something was standing between him and the robot. Or rather than something, a someone. A woman. In a suit. Carrying a suitcase and a camera.

Joe Porter blinked. Then blinked again.

The woman was smiling a smile so wide her missing teeth were showing. She stepped in through the doorway as if there wasn't a huge metallic killing machine behind her.

"Hullo!" she said cheerfully. "Are you open?"

Joe tired to look past the woman to the robot. The sentry bot was trying to follow her through the door, but was having serious difficulties fitting through. That gave the man at least some relief.

"Is that… that thing with you?" he asked pointing at the bot.

The woman stared blankly at him for a moment, the smile losing just a little bit of its power. She turned slowly around to look at the bot now seemingly stuck in the doorway.

"Jeeves?" she said airily. "Why of course he is. And I would ask you to treat him kindly. We have both had a long day."

Joe sighed. Figured the first customer he had had in ages would be another mech freak. Great. Just great. But he wasn't about to turn a paying customer away. He had a reputation to keep.

"What can I get you?" he asked hopefully, trying to make himself presentable for the new customer. "Joe's got whatever you need."

The woman tilted her head, looking around the café through her cracked glasses. Her eyes glazed over for a moment as she stared at the wall behind Joe and the man in charge of the café looked form side to side. What was the woman looking at? He cleared his throat and waved his hand over the fridge in the corner.

"Anything you'd like?" he asked again, trying to keep the awkward away from his tone.

The strange woman seemed to snap out of whatever trance she had been under and she looked at the chairs by the counter. Her nose crinkled up a bit as she dug out a dirty piece of cloth from her breast pocket and wiped the torn leather surface with it. To be honest, the cloth was smudging more dirt onto the chair than had been before, but Joe found himself unable to say anything. He glanced at the doorway where the sentry bot had stopped trying to get through and was just silently standing there. Guns aimed at him. Joe licked his lips and turned his attention back to the less lethal of the two.

The woman looked expectant.

"So… uh…" Joe said. "Food?"

"Ah, yes," the woman said. "I am famished." She sat primly on the chair, legs neatly crossed at the ankles and smoothed her dirty business attire. Joe could see her calloused fingers working the creases of the dress before settling on the table. Fresh cuts and old scars covered her skin.

"Well, little lady," he said, all too happy to move the conversation along. "We've got all sorts of goods. Prewar, freshly killed, anything you need. And we just got a new patch of fresh water from a trader two days ago. All clean by the courtesy of the Brotherhood of Steel and the Lone Wanderer!"

For a moment the woman was just staring at him with a blank look and Joe could feel sweat trickling down his brow. The woman wasn't looking at him, not really. She was looking _through_ him.

"Uh… Ma'am?" he asked.

She perked up and nodded. Her dry lips thinned to a straight line and the look in her eyes grew stark for a moment. She looked him in the eye with a cold glare that froze him to his spot far more effectively than the sight of the robot had.

It disappeared as soon as it had appeared, replaced by an empty smile.

"I've been walking around the whole day, sightseeing and just… enjoying my day off. But finding a decent restaurant around here can be so troublesome. I mean, I have been looking around for hours! And travelling makes a woman hungry!"

Joe, still a bit unsettled by the surprise stare chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, it sure can," he said. "Not that many places to dine around here. But… uh, really, what do you want?"

He was blunt now. To the point. That seemed to work for the crazies. He was just starting to realize just how bad his situation was here. He was stuck in his own diner with a woman with a few screws loose in her head and her killer robot. It could turn ugly. He just wanted to get the woman out.

"Oh, I don't require much," she said waving her hand dismissively. "Do you have anything vegan?"

Joe stared at her a long moment.

"Say what now?"

"Oh, I used to be ovo-lacto pescatarian, but sometimes it gets too hard to explain, so I thought to myself: why not go all the way?" She giggled at her joke and looked at the man behind the counter eagerly.

Joe looked at his fridge, then at the woman, back at his fridge and then at the robot. He forced a small laugh.

"It's… uh… all that you see here," he said opening the fridge door, showing his collection of prewar foods.

"I see," the woman said slowly. "Alright. Could you tell me which of these meals are gluten free?"

"Um… We have… uh…" What the hell was gluten, he thought frantically and rummaged through. Was that some sort of an animal? Joe looked into his fridge and reached for the first item he could see. "Fancy Lads Snack Cakes?" he said hopefully.

The woman just stared at him with an empty look and for a moment Joe feared she was going to blank out again. He needn't have worried, thought.

"Snack cakes?" she repeated. "They use egg in those, don't they? And I can assure you, good sir, that those cakes are not gluten free."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he hastily said and turned back to his fridge. "We also have… we have…"

Joe heard the stool scrape against the dirty floor as the woman got up. He turned around to see her grabbing her suitcase and turning around.

"I see this establishment doesn't take their customers' diets into consideration. That is simply appalling! Why this would never fly where I come from! Simply appalling!"

"But I… but," Joe said waving at his fridge. His one customer! She was leaving.

"Good day to you, sir," she said and lifted her nose. "Do not expect me to rate your diner very high if someone asks my opinion." She walked to her robotic companion blocking the exit and stopped. And then she just stood there.

Joe stared at her back. She wasn't trying to move the hunk of metal, she was just… standing there.

He moved to the side to see her staring blankly at it, as though she didn't even see it.

He really shouldn't have said anything. He could have just left through a window or something.

"Ma'am?" he said in defeat. "Do you need help?"

The woman didn't move. She just stood there as if waiting for the problem to go away. Joe sighed and dug the palms of his hands to his eyes. What a nightmare. If this woman was the best customer the Wasteland had to offer, he would gladly serve only to his good old townspeople. At least they didn't blank out and spew nonsense. And most of them didn't have killer robots.

Joe moved next to the woman and sidestepped her. Now he was facing the robot. Its red eyes zeroed on him and the lights blinked brightly.

"I'm just gonna… uh… help remove your pal here so the two of you can get moving," he said uncertainly, looking between the empty eyed woman and the bot keenly watching him. When neither said anything, Joe put his hands on the sentry bot's chassis and started pushing. The metallic thing let out a creak as its hinges scraped against each other, but it wouldn't budge.

It was stuck to the door.

"Shit, shit, _shit_!" he muttered and pushed harder, feet scraping at the floor as he put his whole weight to it. The damp floor was slippery under his feet and was making his endeavor even harder.

"Such use of foul language was uncalled for," the woman said suddenly and Joe slipped on the ground, falling face first against the robot. He could feel one of his teeth chipping and yowled in pain. He turned around to face the woman who was scowling at him from above. Her foot was tapping against the floor, arms crossed as if she was expecting an apology.

"Yeah, sorry about that ma'am," he muttered massaging his jaw. "I was just trying to get your… uh… friend here to move."

The woman looked at the robot and for a moment Joe worried she was going to lapse into another empty stare. But she just huffed.

"Jeeves, we're leaving!" she said snappishly.

The sentry bot shifted and its wheels were brushing against the floor uselessly. It metallic frame screeched against the doorframes and it was slowly starting to move. Joe drew in a breath and started pushing again. This time, with their combined efforts the bot was set free. It tumbled a little, its creaking wheels having trouble finding balance on the uneven ground.

" _Do not interfere with security operations,_ " it droned as the woman moved out of the café.

"Come along, Jeeves," she said haughtily. "We've got to find another restaurant with a bit higher standards before nightfall."

Yeah, good luck with that Joe thought and wiped sweat away from his brow. If he never saw these too again, it would be too soon.

" _Have a nice day,_ " the bot said as it started following its owner.

Joe sagged against his counter and buried his face in his arms. Why the hell had he ever decided that Canterbury Commons was a perfect place to start a diner?


End file.
